


And then it's just too much (I cannot get you close enough)

by verbaepulchellae



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Dirty Talk, Domesticity, F/M, Future Fic, Happy future fic, I'm also so serious about the pregnancy kink yall, Impregnantion Kink, Pregnancy, Pregnancy Kink, Pregnant Sex, Smut, canon AU, listen, post season three au, shit is dirty, slightly possessive!Bellamy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-04
Updated: 2018-09-04
Packaged: 2019-07-07 01:37:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15898266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/verbaepulchellae/pseuds/verbaepulchellae
Summary: Clarke grins and drops her hands to her belly, stroking them over the full curve. “We shouldn’t have waited this long if I knew it was going to affect you this much,” Clarke says, looking down her body.Written for the prompt: Ten years on Earth haven't damped his desire for her.  Post Season 3 AU. (And then I added pregnancy kink because I'm me.)





	And then it's just too much (I cannot get you close enough)

**Author's Note:**

> This is kind of a fix it fic for myself. I'm trying to find my way back to still writing bellarke fic while getting more distance from the show, so this was part of that process. I intend to updated Encased soon once that distance is achieved~
> 
> Also please heed the tags, they are real.

A late summer breeze stirs through the herb garden below the observation tower, lifting the smell of rosemary and lavender up, up to the deck where Bellamy leans. The sun’s in its last descent below the horizon, licking across full spruces and oaks, casting purple shadows into the mountain ranges and Bellamy, lifting his canteen to his lips, wonders how his mother, how anyone, lived their lives without seeing this. 

Movement in the herb garden draws his attention, a slow moving train of figures, one tall and rest of varying sizes. With the twilight tint that turns friends to strangers, Bellamy doesn’t recognize whose children they are, but he knows the blonde crown of braids anywhere, can almost imagine that the breeze carries her scent up to him, intertwined with thyme and sage and mint. Clarke picks her way through the rows of plants, stooping now and then to take a few cuttings of different stalks as the children tumble around her, their words indistinguishable but the pitch of their voices carrying. Clarke’s low, good humored voice mixes with theirs and Bellamy watches her catch the smallest one, one that can’t be older than two or three but still determinedly toddling after the rest, even over the uneven earth. He knows who that one belongs to and he shakes his head.

Clarke looks ethereal in the purple hued light, and if Bellamy didn’t know better, he’d think she was eighteen again, twenty again, twenty-five… she could be any age, and she’ll always be just as beautiful. He leans his chin on his hand and watches her slow progression, the toddler in the group now precariously balanced on her hip. Bellamy stretches, gives one last glance at the horizon and decides that the gesture to guard duty has been more than completed. After that first firey shock of violence in their first few years on earth, alliances had been drawn and held. Skaikru intermarries and trades with Trikru, Azgeda and Shallow Valley more than it fights these days.

He scales down the ladder easily and lets himself into the herb garden, only to be immediately pelted with small bodies. He hefts Jordan up in one arm and swings his niece up in the other to sit on his shoulder and is immediately barraged by pleas from the rest of the children for the same treatment.

“It’s not fair, I want to ride on your shoulders too!”

“Me too, Bellamy! Me too-”

“You got a chance yesterday,” Bellamy tells the brown haired little boy that leaps onto his leg, which is true but is mostly said because Aurora is clinging to his head in a way that he knows means she’s not coming down without a fight.

“Vega, Bellamy can’t walk if you hang on to his legs like that,” Clarke admonishes her little brother gently as she reaches them. Tevi is still cuddled into her side, sucking on his thumb and watching Bellamy with his dark eyes that are all Echo.

“Hey, Slugger,” Clarke says with a grin at Bellamy and puts the royal heir to the Ice Nation down so she can scoop up her own little brother. “How was your self imposed guard duty?”

“Boring as hell,” Bellamy says with his own smile. “How was the rest of the council meeting?”

“The same,” Clarke says with a lopsided shrug. “Once we got to division of infrastructure responsibilities along trade routes, I figured I’d done all I needed.”

“I’d say above and beyond,” Bellamy says with a chuckle and leans in to steal a chaste kiss, a little awkward with the gaggle of children between the two of them, and accompanied by a chorus of complaints. “Alright, alright,” Bellamy says and finally puts Jordan. Aurora claps her hands over his eyes, but he kneels down all the same. “First one back to the mess hall gets Clarke’s dessert tonight.”

He gets kicked in the ear as Aurora scrambles over his head to leap the short distance to the ground, and the children take off with shrieks of delight .Vega nearly launches from Clarke’s arms to get to the ground faster. Tevi is the only one who doesn’t go, having found a worm much more interesting. Bellamy hefts up the little prince and offers his free hand to Clarke as the wind their way back through the garden. 

“Well thanks for that,” Clarke says dryly. 

“You’re not missing out on much, I promise,” Bellamy says with a laugh, tugging her closer. “I got insider information that it’s Miller’s bake night.”

Clarke shudders and pulls a face. “In that case, I guess I should be thanking you.”

Bellamy tilts his face down and Clarke rises on her toes to kiss her, laughing a little as Tevi squalls in complaint. Her mouth tastes like mint, fresh and clean and Bellamy nips at her lip in lieu of kissing her deeper like he wants. Clarke pulls back with a slow smile, her serious blue eyes soft.

“Want to eat at home tonight?” she asks him, thumb rubbing over his. Bellamy feels the answering pull in his stomach and wraps his arm around her shoulders.

“How can I say no to that?” he murmurs to her. 

“Hoping that you won’t,” Clarke breathes. “Especially if there’s no dessert to look forward.”

Bellamy can’t help his snort. “Ever the romantic, Clarke.”

They return Tevi to Echo and Roan, who are just leaving the council chambers. Echo accepts her son back with a stalwart nod to Bellamy. 

“Roan and I brought some Azgedan wine with us,” she tells Bellamy as she nuzzles her nose into her son’s thick hair. “We thought we’d share it at dinner, show you sky people what drinking’s all about.”

“Thanks but,” Bellamy says, glancing back at where Clarke is waiting with decieving primness. “We’ve already got plans.”

Echo gives him a knowing look and he just claps his former enemy, now friend and occasional drinking buddy, on the shoulder. “Don’t start,” he advises her.

“Wouldn’t dare.”

Their home is on the other side of Arkadia, a sweet little cabin that they built about six years back when they decided they’d had enough of living out of the cold, small rooms of the Ark. It’s uniquely and wonderfully their own. It’s an open layout, the counters for the kitchen flowing into shelves for the things they’ve acquired over their ten years on Earth: hand made pots and vases; dried flower bundles; stacks of woven scarves and mittens; several crude figurines that had been Bellamy’s first attempts at whittling; old books in various languages that they’ve worked on deciphering. Dried herbs hang from the ceiling and a ladder leads up to the small loft that closely brackets the limestone fireplace and chimney. In the winter it keeps their poorly insulated home warm, but in the summer it offers a cool relief to the heat, and Bellamy’s woken many summer mornings and find Clarke’s flung out a leg or arm to press against the cool chimney stone.

Clarke is already shrugging out of the loose linen jacket she wears in the summer to protect herself from the sun, and the reveal of the soft skin of her arms, the line of her neck and the swell of her stomach, firm and round, makes Bellamy’s mouth dry. Ten years knowing her, ten years of growing up and seeing each other at their worst, their darkest, their most afraid-- ten years of scars and broken bones and blood, cuts and bruises and tears they didn’t want to cry; of overcoming impossible odds and sharing victories and gallows humor and forgiveness hasn’t damped his desire for her. Clarke looks up at him now, on the other side of their kitchen table, and her smile is slow and private.

“What are you doing all the way over there?”

“Just taking you in,” Bellamy says, bracing his hands on the back of one of their chairs. “Can’t I do that?”

“I mean you could,” Clarke says, resting her hands on her lower back and sighing at the stretch it gives her. “But I’m going to get started without you if you’re planning on staying there.” 

Bellamy chuckles and drops his head, can’t quite believe Clarke sometimes. “Now I’m torn.”

“You would be,” Clarke snorts. 

“Can you blame me?” Bellamy laughs. “Only thing hotter than getting you off is watching you get yourself off. Especially right now,” he says lifting his chin at her stomach.

Clarke grins and drops her hands to her belly, stroking them over the full curve. “We shouldn’t have waited this long if I knew it was going to affect you this much,” Clarke says, looking down her body. They’re the last of their friends and families to finally chose to take this step, bring a new person into the world after all the lives they’ve taken out of it. It’d been hard to reckon, but finally, with enough time and trust, they’re ready. 

But Clarke, for her teasing, is right: as excited and nervous as he is for the next step, to finally hold the little human that’s neither him nor Clarke but the best of each of them, Bellamy is almost mourning the loss of Clarke being pregnant because shit. There’s something deeply erotic about seeing her body grow and change because of them. So much so, that once he gets his hands on her, he tends to lose himself a little.

He curls his fingers on the chair and knows his smile is a little feral. “Come on, Clarke.”

Clarke rolls her eyes. “I always have to do all the work around here,” she gripes, but hefts herself up onto the table, wiggling backwards to get herself fully seated before she crooks her finger at him. “At least come over here, Bellamy. I missed you.”

“Aw you missed me?” He teases, making his way over to her. “Was it such a long day, babe?”

“The longest,” she breathes, curling her fingers into the hem of her shirt and quickly pulling it over her head. Bellamy sucks in a breath at all her skin. “And all day, all I could think about was coming home, and having you fuck me really, really hard.”

“Jesus,” Bellamy groans. “That what you want, Clarke? You need me?”

Clarke just crooks her finger at him again, eyes hooded as she watches him. Bellamy can’t resist her, has never been able to resist her, and lets her draw him into her space, gives her his hand when she holds her own out for it. 

“You know I do,” Clarke breathes. She kisses his palm and then guides his hand to stroke over her stomach, then down, down into her loose pants, through the thick thatch of hair and to the lips of her cunt-- Bellamy sucks his breath in on a hiss.

“Oh, Clarke,” he murmurs, slipping his fingers between her labia. “How long have you been this wet?”

Clarke smiles in relief and tips her head back. “A while,” she sighs as Bellamy gently coats his fingers in her slick and works his hand up and down her cunt, getting her accustomed to his touch. “All I want to do these days is fuck you.”

“We should get you checked up for that,” Bellamy says in mock concern, finally settling his fingers on her clit and rubbing softly at it. “Seems unprecedented.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Clarke murmurs, too pleased with his touch to rise to the bait. “Really deviating from the norm.”

Bellamy chuckles as he leans in to snuffle at her neck. She smells so good, god. Rich and earthy with the slightest hint of river and ozone. His mouth waters for her and he can’t help but nip at her skin. 

“You know what I’m going to suggest at the meeting tomorrow?” Clarke murmurs, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and tucking her face into his own neck. 

“What’s that?” He tightens the circles up on her clit, still not rubbing too hard because Clarke is so soft and sweet right now. He likes to keep her suspended like this as long as he can. It always makes what comes next that much hotter. 

“That while you’re with us for the morning session, I have leave to suck your cock. You know, just slide under the table and take care of you.”

“Jesus, Clarke,” Bellamy chokes. 

“I’d still be listening,” she protests. “I think it would help me focus.”

“I think that would get us both kicked out of council meetings for life,” he murmurs into her skin.

“Good,” Clarke sighs. “I’m ready to retire.”

“Ripe old age of 28,” he sympathizes. “I’d say you earned it.”

“Bellamy?”

“Hm?”

“You need to kiss me now.”

Bellamy cups her face and draws her up, tucking his thumb under her chin to lift her face up as far as he can. He loves the line of Clarke like this: eyes hot, throat bared, breasts and stomach round, legs spread. He kisses her slowly, swallowing the soft noise she makes as he rubs a little more firmly at her clit. She clutches at his sides, fingers starting to tremble even as she searches for the hem his shirt to slip beneath and find his skin.

“All day waiting for this,” Bellamy murmurs against her mouth. “Are we on the right track? This what you needed?”

“Yeah,” Clarke breathes. He fingers skim up his sides, raising goosebumps in their wake and Bellamy shivers and bites at her lip. “I wanted you close like this. Touching me like this.”

Bellamy drops a hand to her stomach and rubs, open palmed across it. Clarke sighs and tips her head back again. She likes her stomach rubbed by him, even as she’s firmly warded off everyone else’s hopeful hands. Like all of the kids of Arkadia, theirs will know every home as her own, every adult as a caretaker, especially when Bellamy and Clarke are working over time. There’s a beauty to it, but for now, their kid is just theirs to love and to know. Bellamy matches his fingers on her clit to the slow gentle strokes of his hand over her stomach. 

“God, that’s nice,” Clarke murmurs, eyes falling shut. She leans back on her hands, content to let him take care of her and Bellamy is struck by words he once saw graffitied and just visible under the sooty hue of a bomb-blackened wall in Polis. _God is a woman._ Bellamy’s never really believed in a higher power than the magic of earth, the rugged and survival-determined will of life to keep going against all odds. But if there is something more, something greater, it’s hard to believe that anything could be more awe inspiring than Clarke, radiating life and pleasure. 

It makes something roll in Bellamy’s chest- the need to pay homage to Clarke, and the need to dirty her up, mark her up, keep her human and his for as long as he can. They twist together dark and promising, conflicting and complementary, until the only thing he can do is drop to his knees and tug at Clarke’s pants. 

“Gotta get my mouth on you,” he murmurs at Clarke’s soft whimper. “Lemme just lick you a bit.”

“My man,” she laughs fondly, raking her fingernails back through Bellamy’s hair and across his scalp as they fight down the remainder of her clothing. “Insatiable.”

“For you,” Bellamy husks, kissing the inside of her thighs, in love with their strength, the extra shape of them that comes from Clarke being well fed, the tender skin that bruises so easily. “Can’t get enough.” He’s a little incoherent as he catches the full scent of her. Here, with her cunt so pink and wet, rich with life and all for him, he can’t remember anything else that matters. 

“Could do this all the time, babe,” he rasps, urging her back so he can actually get his mouth on her. “Keep you in bed all day and fuck you however you want.”

“Yes,” Clarke moans, balancing on her elbows now, one leg curled over his shoulder, and Bellamy swears she gets wetter. “See this is why- why we should retire,” she stutters as Bellamy finally licks a broad swipe up her cunt. “You could make good on that.”

Bellamy just hums into her, loves that it makes Clarke writhe. He laps at her clit, giving her the full rasp of his tongue and firm pressure. Clarke shudders above him and her hands flutter to find his where they’re curled around her thighs. He spreads his fingers as he sucks at her clit and lets Clarke cling to him. He hums again on her, right over her clit and gets a pleased moan for his efforts. When he grazes his teeth lightly over her clit, Clarke yelps. Her hips lift insistently and Bellamy slides his hands up to her stomach and lets her take control. 

Clarke hums and huffs above him as she rocks up into his mouth: short, sharp rolls of her body designed to get exactly what she wants. Bellamy licks and sucks helpfully at her, trying to keep as still as he can so that Clarke can find him again and again and again. The noises of his mouth against her are obscene, and Bellamy finally can’t take it anymore, drags her close and buries his face against her again. Clarke’s breath goes high and desperate as he lashes his tongue against her clit, hard and firm and focused, not letting her escape the pressure. Her thighs shake on his shoulders and Bellamy groans against her when he feels her cunt contract sharply under his mouth. There’s nothing better than feeling Clarke come.

Clarke stutters over his name, whimpering when Bellamy doesn’t let up. “You said you wanted it hard,” Bellamy teases her, pulling off her clit just so he can replace his tongue with his thumb. “Trust me, babe, I can give it to you hard.”

“I- ah!- I want you in me,” Clarke keens. She can’t arch the way she usually does when she’s this over sensitive, and Bellamy nips at her thigh, scratches his blunt nails lightly down the inside of her leg so that Clarke gasps at the combined sensation. Bellamy sinks two fingers into her and Clarke warbles something. 

“Inside you like this?” Bellamy urges her, crooking his fingers and rubbing right where it counts. Clarke shudders and there’s a catch in her breath that feeds that darkdirty part of Bellamy’s hunger for her. 

“So fucking hot,” Bellamy tells her, leaning forward to kiss at her clit again. He lips and licks and sucks at her, messy with spit and her slick, just playing while he does the real work with his fingers. “Look you, so full, huh? Who did this to you?”

“You,” Clarke gasps, and yeah, he’s tipped her over-- out of her head and into her body and desperate for everything she already has. “Full of you.”

“That’s right,” Bellamy praises her, low and hot. “That’s all me, all us. Can’t believe how hot you are, babe. Taking such good care of our kid. You’re such a good mom already, it drives me crazy. So fucking crazy you have no idea. Makes me want to fuck you all the damn time. Makes me wanna put another kid in you,” Bellamy babbles.

“Oh, god, yes,” Clarke gasps and her thighs cinch tighter around him. “That night we made her- Bellamy. God, I think about- I think, _fuck_ ,” she keens as he pushes another finger into her roughly and scissors them. She’s so wet and tight, he has no idea how she takes him half the time, let alone how she’s going to give birth, but Clarke is full of wonders. 

“What was that, babe?” Bellamy urges her. “What do you think about?”

“I think about how you fucked me. How you kept your fingers in me all night after.”

“Yeah, I remember that,” Bellamy says fondly, watching his fingers work her. Clarke’s cunt is so pink and flushed, dripping with slick and starting to flutter again around his fingers. “I wasn’t going to let you lose a drop, was I?”

“No,” Clarke moans, her head turning restlessly in her pleasure. “But then you got hot again just holding me.”

“And what’d you do?” Bellamy growls, the memory almost blinding.

“I sucked you off,” Clarke gasps. “Until you were ready to come in me again.”

“That’s right, christ, and _you_ ,” Bellamy groans, leaning forward to kiss at her swollen stomach. “You couldn’t stop coming, could you? Oh shit, babe, just like you’re coming right now. That’s my girl, god, that’s gorgeous.”

Bellamy stares down in wonder at the way Clarke rides against his hand, cunt pulsing on his fingers as she whimpers her way through her second. It seems to quake through her, and Bellamy watches the familiar and deeply loved flush of her cheeks, the flutter of Clarke’s hands, the barely there crows feet at the corners of her eyes. 

“Jesus,” he curses. “Can’t get over you, you know that?” 

He mouths at her, just above her clit so that she gasps and thrashes with the extra tease, then kisses his way up her stomach, pauses to draw one of her nipples into his mouth, and lashes his tongue over the peaked tip, can’t resist how good she looks. Clarke fumbles for him, pulling him up for sloppy kisses between which she’s still trying to catch her breath. Bellamy rubs at her arms, helps her sit up so she can pull his shirt over his head and fight to open his belt.

“C’mere,” Bellamy groans, helping her slide off the table and turn so she can fold over it. Clarke’s legs tremble on the the floor, but she pushes back against him all the same. “Still so impatient, babe,” Bellamy chuckles

“Oh shut up,” Clarke laughs a little shakily. “You love it.”

“Yeah, I do,” Bellamy murmurs into her shoulder. He pushes into her slow, his breath stuttering a the clench of her cunt around his cock. 

“Yeah, just like that, Bellamy,” Clarke whispers. “Fuck, you always feel so good in me.”

Bellamy kisses at her shoulders, the back of her neck, runs his hands down her arms to brace them over her own and hold on to her, anchor himself. “Amazing,” he mumbles against her skin. “So fucking perfect, babe. Love you, love you so fucking much.”

Clarke hums happily and turns her head for a sloppy kiss, starting to rock her hips back to get the slide of his cock just how she wants it. “Love you too,” she manages in between kisses.

“You know what else I love?” Bellamy murmurs against her mouth, rocking slowly into Clarke, working with her movement until he’s bottomed out in her and Clarke’s breath shudders out against his lips. She hums in lieu of answering him, too focused on the minute circle of her hips, chasing friction. “Come on, do you, Clarke?”

“What, Bellamy?” Clarke whispers, tipping her head back against his shoulder. He kisses her warm temple, fond of how she can sound both put upon and eager at the same time. He lets go of one of her hands to run his hand down her body, over her tits and down to her stomach, cupping it as he pulls back and thrusts into her deep. “Fuck,” she gasps.

“Yeah, that’s it,” Bellamy chuckles. “I love that I can fuck you like this, while you’ve still got our kid in you, huh? That you’ve got both us in you at once, and you take, _jesus_ , take such good care of us both, Clarke.”

Clarke lets out a breathy whine, rocking back into him as much as she can with the way he’s bracketing her against the table. 

“Both of you,” Clarke whispers. “I love you both so much.”

“I know,” Bellamy says, can’t resist sucking a bite into Clarke’s neck as he grinds into her, loves being as deep as he can get in her. “I know you do. You’re such a sweet mama, aren’t you babe?”

Clarke’s gaspgroans and she leans forward a little more so that Bellamy swears, the new angle making his cock drag more fully along her cunt. “Again,” she demands, voice rough with her arousal. “Call me that again.”

“Call you ‘mama’?” Bellamy asks, groaning at Clarke’s keen of agreement. “That’s what you are, aren’t you? Best little mama in the world. Kid’s gonna be so lucky to have you, and I’m so goddamn lucky that I’m gonna give you all the kids you want. You like that, Clarke? You like being a mom?”

“Yes. Never want to stop doing this,” Clarke whimpers, a little out of her head with pleasure, because she’s gotta know Bellamy’s never going to stop being sweet on her.

“Don’t have to, babe. Whenever you’re ready, we’ll get another kid in you. Oh yeah?” He groans when Clarke shudders all over and her finger cling to his. A peek at her reveals her red bitten lips, the color in her cheeks, the haze of her eyes. Nothing’s more beautiful than a fucked out, turned on Clarke. “Yeah, you like that idea, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Clarke moans. “Yes, you and me, Bellamy-” She can’t finish her thought, too lost in the slap of their bodies, the drag and bump of Bellamy’s cock in her, his warmth at her back. “I wanna feel you all the time.”

“You feel me here?” Bellamy growls, the gentle hand he rubs across her stomach at odds with how hard he’s fucking her.

“Yes,” Clarke gasps. “I love it. I love you. I love her.”

“I know you do, sweetheart. She’s going to love you too, huh? And she’s going to love all the little brothers and sisters we’re going to give her, isn’t she?”

“Yes, yes, Bellamy, _please_.”

“Yeah, babe, lets get you off again.”

“And you.”

“‘Course,” Bellamy chuckles, despite the fact that his vision is narrowing down to _Clarke_ , and _fuck,_ and the perfect dip of her spine between her shoulder blades. “Course I’m gonna come, Clarke. How can I not, huh? You’re too much, never can get enough of you.”

He keeps one hand on her stomach and drops the other to her clit. He doesn’t bother with finesse now, not when Clarke’s as worked up as she is. Anything more than just the brush of his fingers would be too much anyway, as sensitive as she is now. He keeps his fingers still and relies on the rhythm of their bodies to rock her cunt against his hand. Sure enough, Clarke squirms a little, overwhelmed just by his hand, and Bellamy pulls her back against him further, keeps her still to make sure she feels it, make sure she lets herself get there.

“Bellamy, **__**_Bellamy_ , oh-”

“That’s it, that’s- _fuck_ , Clarke,” Bellamy groans as her cunt tightens up around him, fluttering with her orgasm. Bellamy sinks his teeth into the back of her neck, because he’s sure otherwise he’d lose all time and place with the intensity of his own orgasm. He hears Clarke’s shuddering breath, feels the rapid pulse of her heart against his chest; the promise of her stomach under his hand and Bellamy feels deeply, wonderfully at peace. 

Clarke trembles against him, exhaustion this time, he thinks, and he wraps both his arms around her as he eases his softening cock out of her. Clarke makes a soft sound of protest, never fond of him pulling out after he’s fucked her as hard as he has, and he kisses her shoulder in apology.

“C’mere, sweet thing,” he whispers, collapsing into a chair and gathering Clarke into his lap. She’s a little harder to tuck fully into his arms now as she was when they were younger, but he loves that- loves that he can’t quite contain all of her. She snuggles her head under his chin all the same and he rubs a hand up and down her arm softly, soothing her goosebumps.

“That was really good,” Clarke finally says, the vibration of her voice soothing against his neck. 

“I thought so,” Bellamy chuckles. “Still feeling it.”

“Old man,” Clarke snorts and sits up a little so she can kiss his cheek, his forehead, his ear (“ _Clarke, knock it off,”_ ) another there for his protest, and finally his mouth. “I’m not the only one who needs to retire.”

“What’s retirement when I got a full time job taking care of you?” Bellamy teases her and gives her hip a gentle slap. “You hungry?”

“Yeah, I’ll put together some food.”

“Nah, I got it, babe.”

“I want to,” Clarke protests, sliding out of his lap, but not out of his hold. She strokes Bellamy’s head when he tucks his face into her hip, resting his cheek against her belly. “I need to stand for a bit anyway.”

“Your back?” Bellamy murmurs, resting his palm at the small of her back. “Stiff?”

“A little,” Clarke admits. “She’s getting heavier. But moving helps.”

“You put food together, I’ll get the muscle salve for you, ok?”

“Ok,” Clarke murmurs, and bends to press her nose briefly into Bellamy’s hair before she makes her way to the kitchen with just a hint of a waddle. Bellamy watches her for a moment, a little overcome, then gets up to dig through the basket that he and Clarke keep the different ointments and medicines they’ve acquired over the years for things too trivial to take to medical. He works it into her lower back while Clarke assembles their plates of seasoned meats and thick slices of bread and a few pickled vegetables each. She fills him on what he missed in the rest of the council meeting and he lists off a few of the things he heard from their people on his patrol around camp, checking in on the different families that have settled and grown in Arkadia.

It’s still somewhat early when they finish eating, but Clarke’s exhaustion is starting to show on her pretty face, and Bellamy figures they’re both at the point in the day where being around anyone but each other just feels like work. They take a book out onto their covered porch, and Bellamy pulls Clarke’s feet into his lap and works his thumb into them while they take turns reading aloud to each other. 

Distantly, thunder rolls and a soft, cool breeze brings them the smell of rain. In the candlelight, Clarke glows, and Bellamy catches her smiling softly down at her stomach as she passes her hands over it, one after the other. Life hasn’t always been easy on earth, and it won’t always stay this peaceful, but for moments like this, he figures it’s all worth it.

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from 100 Years by Florence and the Machine.


End file.
